


The Path of Sand

by sirladyknight



Series: Different Paths [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Humor, Drunkenness, Expelled From the Order AU, F/M, Female Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hermit Obi-wan, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Code, Mom!Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan Needs a Hug, Parent-Child Relationship, Poor Obi-Wan, Protective Obi-Wan, Protective clones, Slavery, Tatooine, Unhealthy Relationships, Young Boba Fett
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-05-19 16:30:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14877348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirladyknight/pseuds/sirladyknight
Summary: Overwhelmed, Obi-Wan heads to the one place where she knows she'll be alone.AKA the Tatooine Route.(This makes more sense if you read The Expulsion first, or if you don't want to (??) check out the summary on the series main page thingy, you know what I'm talking about.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expelled. Exiled. Sort of the same thing, right? Obi-Wan ghosts the Council and bails to Tatooine because frip it, if she's going to be an ex-Jedi, she's going to do it right. 
> 
> In other words, she still ends up a Crazy Old Witch in the Wastes.

Obi-Wan sat aboard the cargo ship, wedged in between the crates alongside other passengers. She was just another sentient on a one-way trip to a world that few would willingly live on. Despite it being her choice, she understood that the life ahead of her was not an easy one.

But that was the purpose of an exile, wasn’t it?

It felt right to go back to the planet where it had all started. Another reason, if Obi-Wan were to be honest, is that no one in their right mind would think to look for her on Tatooine. Least of all Anakin, he hated the desert planet with ferocity most unbecoming of a Jedi.

 _If only I’d acted on that passion before it manifested itself_ , Obi-Wan thought, letting her forehead drop to her knees. _Then I might not be here._

Mos Espa was just exactly how she remembered it. Hot, dry, and hard to look at without squinting, the brother suns in the sky bearing down ceaselessly on the city’s occupants. She slipped through the crowds like a stranger and like a ghost they saw right through her.

In a way, it was refreshing to not be someone.

Obi-Wan bought a landspeeder with the credits she had saved over the years, credits she never expected to use. She purchased a new robe and scarf to bear the spontaneous sandstorms she half-remembered Anakin mentioning. They were grey in color although she would have preferred the traditional Jedi brown or cream. That would have been too obvious. After a prolonged mental debate, she purchased a blaster, sneering delicately when the shopkeeper handed it to her.

 _Old habits die hard_ , she admitted, tugging her robe’s voluminous layers closer and boarding the speeder. She had discussed needing a new place of residence with an Arcona shopkeeper and he mentioned an empty dwelling in the Jundland Wastes, near the Western Dune Sea. Remote and near inhospitable.

_Perfect._

 

After spending the better part of the day trying to get the vaporator working, she sat in the shade of her new abode. The inside had collected more sand than the desert itself and would require a shovel rather than a broom to clear. It felt good to be working with her hands.

“I’ll have to go to town for parts before the suns go down,” Obi-Wan said to the empty air before shaking herself off and standing. “Oh, dear. I’m already starting to talk to myself. That’s not a good sign, is it?”

A howling wind blew across the ridges of sand, swirling grit against the painfully blue sky, but there was no one to answer her.

 

Obi-Wan decided to stay in Mos Espa for the night, dreading the lonely house filled with sand and silence. Instead, she left her needed purchases in her rented room and headed to the nearest cantina. There were plenty to choose from, what with the planet being Hutt territory.

She picked one that was busy so she could blend with the crowd, seating herself at the bar with her hood drawn. The music was loud, played by a live band in the corner. The lighting was dim and sporadic.

The bartender came over to her, a tan-skinned Advozse female. “What’ll it be?”

“I don’t suppose you have Corellian brandy?”

She grunted, “Sure, it’s expensive though. You got the credits?”

Obi-Wan slid them forward. “I wouldn’t dream to bother you if I didn’t.”

That produced a short laugh and the Advozse inspected her a little closer. “Charming. Gotta name, stranger?”

“Ben.” She supplied. “Your’s?”

“Tamka. I run this place so don’t cause any trouble, charmer.” Tamka poured her the drink.

“I will endeavor not to,” Ben promised with a wry smile, well aware of how trouble seemed to follow her.

 

For the next month, she spent her evenings at Tamka’s bar, getting to know the regulars and earning her own bottle of Corellian brandy on the shelf. In a gloomy way, it warmed her heart to be a part of a group again. Of course, right about the time she had a modicum of peace her past came back to haunt her.

 “Well, well, well, look who it is.”  

Ben closed her eyes. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Fancy meeting you here, Kenobi. Undercover again? Last time I swore to put a blaster bolt in your gut, didn’t I?” The Duros male drawled, a mechanical vibration buzzed in his tone from the breathing tubes attached to his neck and face.

“Cad Bane,” she greeted courteously, ignoring what he had said. “What brings you to this part of the galaxy?”

There was a lull where Ben half suspected that he would just shoot her down before he seated himself next to her. “Business, as usual. You’re not on one of your oh-so-important Jedi missions, then? You know, there’s a bunch of theories on the holonet about what happened to you, why you disappeared after the War ended. They say you abandoned the Republic. Or died.”

“You always say the sweetest things, Bane,” she replied airily, pushing her crisp Coruscanti accent to its utmost primness, ignoring the slight slur to her words. “If you must know, I’m no longer a Jedi. I was expelled. I’m sure you’re pleased to hear that. Although that does mean I’m not worth anything anymore, especially not with the War over.”

He let loose a harsh chuckle. “Expelled? You? Try my other leg and maybe then I’ll believe you, Kenobi.”

“Ben.” She shot him a dark look and then dragged her gaze around the bar. “It’s Ben now, if you don’t mind.”

Bane gestured dismissively. “Whatever, I don’t care if you’re not worth a single credit. I still have a score to settle.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi, former Jedi General, blinked up at him, her blue eyes dim. “I won’t fight you. I can’t. I don’t have a lightsaber anymore.” She turned back to nurse her drink. “Do what you must.”

Bane stared, clenching a toothpick between his fanged teeth. “What? That’s it? Where’s your self-respect, _Ben_?”

“On Corascant, with…” Ben stopped herself, glaring at the alcohol in her hand. “I’m too drunk to be talking to you, Bane. I’m going to say something I regret and I’d hate to ruin our wonderful comradery.”

Swaying just a hair, she pushed herself to her feet and waved a goodbye to Tamka. “I think I should go home now.”

Ben managed to take a few tottering steps before a firm hand gripped her arm. “Not so fast, _Ben_. You’re plastered, why don’t I walk you?”

His deep voice, thrumming with his breathing apparatus, sounded so soothing that she almost believed in his good will. “Mmmm, I’m sure you have the best intentions, eh?”

“Of course.” There was that sharp toothed smile that made her itch for a weapon in her hand. 

Ben considered her options and relented with a careless shrug. What did she have to lose? “Fine, my speeder is this way.”

 

“You’re joking, Kenobi. You live here?” Cad Bane was in Obi-Wan’s living room on Tatooine and it took drunk Ben a moment to wrap her mind around such a ludicrous scenario. “There is literally nothing around for miles, what the kriff do you do besides drink yourself into a stupor?”

Ben pouted, insulted. “I’ll have you know that I meditate and talk to Qui-Gon, my Master.”

Bane glanced around. “I don’t see him. He live here?”

“No, you lout, he’s _dead_.” She snipped, as if it were obvious.

“Forgive my ignorance, I should’ve known,” he retorted dryly, sitting down at her rickety table and kicking his booted feet up. “Don’t suppose you got anything to drink here?”

“We were just at a bar,” Ben exclaimed, squinting at him incredulously. “Why didn’t you drink there?”

His red eyes peered at her from under the brim of his hat. “I don’t trust cantinas, particularly the ones on backwater planets like Tatooine.”

“Rude, Tamka is a proper barkeep. She- she’s, hm, I had a point but I lost it.” Ben muttered, pressing a hand to her cheek. “Why are you here again?”

“When you sober up, I’m going to kill you.”

“Oh, right. That was it. Goodnight then,” she replied before slumping onto her bed.

 

Ben woke up, sweating and with a splitting headache. There was the smell of food in the air and she wondered if Anakin had decided to make breakfast for once.

She nearly blacked out when she sat up suddenly, recalling that she was not on Coruscant but Tatooine and Anakin hated her.

“Bane.” She greeted cordially, clenching her hands over her eyes. “What is this?”

“Breakfast. For me. You can make your own.” He had a cup of caff and a datapad in his hands. Where he had gotten that she had no idea, she hadn’t checked the holonet in weeks.

After quelling a bout of nausea, Ben wobbled over to her caff maker to pour herself a hearty mug. Usually she'd go for tea but her aching head demanded a stronger sort of caffeine. “It’s _my_ food. And it’s not exactly easy to get out here in the desert.”

Bane observed her and took a drink. “You’re going to be dead soon, so does it matter?”

“Please, let’s be civil and wait until after breakfast to talk about my death, shall we?” She selected the chair across from him, making sure to keep her hands in view at all times. Honestly, this was reminding her too much of her time as Raka Hardeen and their tense but genuine rapport. It was making her lower her guard. Was she really that lonely that she was glad to have Cad Bane around to talk to?

A shrug of slim shoulders from the Duros answered her. “Fine, your funeral.”

“Precisely,” Ben retorted and drank deeply.

 

A week passed with Bane threatening to kill her, but she was soon proved to be an unworthy target in his eyes. Apparently slaying an unarmed, depressed ex-Jedi drunk (Ben had huffed at that, she was _not_ a drunk) would be more of a mercy than a kill worth boasting over.

“Listen, Kenobi, I’m still going to be the one to put you down. I’ll be back on Tatooine after a few jobs, so try to make it worth my while, alright?” The Duros sneered, tugging on his coat. He’d invited himself to Ben’s place the entirety of his stay, claiming it was so he could keep her in his sights but she suspected he didn’t like the noise from Mos Espa. Desert towns were often rowdier at night when things cooled down enough to make movement not an encumbrance.

“I can make no promises,” Ben simply smiled. “Happy hunting, try not to kill any innocent civilians.”

“Right there!” He pointed. “Try to get some of that smug self-righteousness back and I’ll be around to execute you in no time.”

Propping her head up with her hand, she used the other to wave. “May the Force be with you.”

“Bite me, Kenobi.”

“Oh, you wish, darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for sure, Cad Bane is a love interest. I was thinking in this universe Jango was still alive, hunting and stuff with little Boba Tea, so he is also a possibility as well. And of course, the clones are freaking out because no matter where they search Obi-Wan???? Is just gone????? HOW did she just disappear, ANAKIN? They know that somehow it's his doing, they just don't know why and neither does he so he's like defensive and angry. It's not HIS fault that Obi-Wan bailed, stop glaring at him like that vode. (Although it actually is.)
> 
> Ben's just this lonely lady in the desert pretending to be annoyed by all these bounty hunters who keep showing up out of the blue, threatening her and then eating all of her food. (She doesn't mind, not really.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ben really does have the worst luck.

“This is _impossible_. How can she just disappear?” Cody paced the durasteel floor of the Negotiator's command bridge. The 212th Attack Battalion had been on route to Kamino like the rest of the vod’e when they had received word from Coruscant that Obi-Wan Kenobi had gone missing. The brothers who had been left behind to monitor their Jedi hadn’t seen her leave but she was no longer at the Temple. According to the tracking device they had placed inside the lining of her robe, she wasn’t even on the planet.

She had just… vanished.

When they requested information concerning her whereabouts from the Council, they had no answer for them either. Apparently she had told no one where she was headed and that did not bode well.

The War was over, _finally_ , and of course it was then that their Jedi had gone AWOL.

“Where would she go? Mandalore?” Waxer offered, scrolling through star maps and checking off promising planets.

Cody shook his head. “No, I contacted the Duke and he said he hadn’t seen the General.”

“Can we trust him?” Boil questioned, checking over his blaster for the twentieth time in a fit of anxiety. “What if he’s lying because she asked him to?”

“He wouldn’t lie about that.” Cody folded his arms. Their General’s former sweetheart was aware of how deeply the clones’ attachment ran for Obi-Wan. He would never do anything that would hurt her, even if it meant betraying her trust.

“Then where could she have gone? Anakin’s still on Coruscant…” Trapper pointed out from his place at the navigation center.

 _Where Skywalker went, Kenobi wasn’t far behind._ The saying was alarmingly accurate but for once it fell flat.

Cody stopped mid-stride. “Excellent idea, Trapper. We’ll just have to ask General Skywalker ourselves then.”

 

Ben knew her savings wouldn’t last forever and to be quite honest there was precious little to do in her lonely abode besides argue with Qui-Gon when her Master chose to appear. He was under the impression that she should go back to civilization and stop ‘languishing in the desert’ which she steadfastly denied. She was not languishing. 

The former Jedi took on a variety of jobs as her credits began to dwindle: mechanic, waitress, cook, and even lounge singer when Tamka’s usual girl had comm-ed in sick.

That last occupation had been a favor to her new friend and regrettably was why she was in her current predicament.

Jabba the Hutt gestured flippantly across his throne room to where Ben was chained to the wall by an ankle leash, speaking in his native throaty Huttese.

His copper protocol droid, TC-70, translated, “The great and noble Jabba wishes for his newest slave to sing for him.”

Ben rose from her bed of ragged pillows and adjusted the scarf wound around her head discreetly, asking in a phony lisping voice, “Does the great and noble Jabba have any requests in particular?”

The Crime Lord slug grunted his response and TC-70 stated, “It is your pick, but choose wisely.”

She bowed and began to sing, a lilting song that stretched her lungs in a way that usually only hard exercise could. It filled the dim throne and the band obliged her, providing a suitable rhythm to accompany her. The Hutt let his bulbous eyes slide shut, rumbling in delight.

His Twi’ilek dancing girls shot her grateful looks and Ben dipped her head mid-note. These types of songs usually lulled the slug to sleep and let the green-skinned women rest from his constant demands. She was thankful that Jabba’s men had sought her out for her voice and not her body, the skimpy clothes of the other slave women didn’t appear very warm and it grew quite chilly in the throne room at night. She tugged her frumpy robe around her tighter, glad she had chosen utility over fashion.

The Hutt was snoring by the time she was done with the last refrain and the rest of the sentients quietly went about their business, letting their Master rest.

Ben allowed the taut muscles of her shoulders to loosen. _Finally, some peace and quiet so I can plan my escape. This would be so much easier if I didn’t have to pretend to not be a blasted Jedi._

She sighed.

_Ex-Jedi._

The silence was short lived as TC-70 announced, at full volume, “Wise and powerful Jabba, the bounty hunter Jango Fett has arrived as you requested.”

Lurching awake, the slug blinked groggily and shook his massive head, grumbling in his language. Ben didn’t need a translator to guess what those words meant. She was also trying to blend into the wall and her pillows, pulling her scarf up to cover mouth as well as her trademark red hair.

True to the droid’s word, Jango Fett strode into the throne room, looking exactly as he had before he’d been knocked unconscious by Mace Windu on Geonosis. He’d nearly been beheaded but it seemed as if Mace had sensed that the bounty hunter needed to live, the Force whispering of a higher purpose.

Ben quite frankly was regretting that decision as the man who’d provided the clone’s template halted just a few feet from her. She faced the throne, on the opposite wall of Jabba so that her voice projected directly to him. Thankfully it meant that Fett wasn’t looking in her direction, for now. The man had a sixth sense about Jedi, a Mandalorian trait most likely.

Fully awake, Jabba laughed heartily, speaking as TC-70 translated, “It appears that even the mighty Fett takes Hutt credits now that the War is over. Are you this desperate for work?”

“A job is a job,” Jango replied, his voice modified and cold through his helmet. “Let’s discuss payment and mission details.”

It was a long and arduous process, dealing with a Hutt, but Jango kept his head and eventually an agreement was reached. He was to bring in, alive or dead, a former Rodian employee of the Hutt’s who’d skipped out on his routine deliveries, taking advantage of the confusion the sudden peace to line his own pockets.

Boring, easy, but apparently worth the pay as Jango announced, “I’ll have him back here in three rotations.”

TC-70 reiterated it’s Master’s words, “See that you do, bounty hunter.”

The music was starting up again and the slave girls rose resignedly to twirl and bounce to the beat, merely background entertainment as conversations broke out between other occupants and Jabba.

Ben ducked her head as Jango turned on his heel and headed back out into the blazing suns. He paused only a few steps after he had past her, the angle of his helmet shifting as though in contemplation. She held very still, willing confusion and indifference towards the bounty hunter through the Force and praying that the Hutt didn’t demand she sing.

After a parsec that stretched into an eon, Jango continued walking and she slumped into her ratty pile of pillows.

 _This planet is much more problematic than I expected,_ Ben thought, yanking at her ankle chain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh, boy, here he is. Jango Fett himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Jango yet but it's getting there, in the meantime, enjoy a different take on Jabba's demise.

Ben had approximately three rotations before Jango returned and her risk of exposure increased yet again. To escape Jabba’s palace wasn’t difficult for a single ex-Jedi but there was an unexpected complication. She couldn’t leave the other slave women to this fate. The trio of Twi’ilek females the Hutt kept consisted of a pair of emerald-skinned twins, Nu and Mah, along with a new pale blue girl named Feen who was scarcely into adulthood.

Ben had meant to keep her distance to prevent herself from getting attached. _I am one woman_ , she reminded herself with a grimace, _I can’t overthrow centuries of slave culture on a planet like Tatooine all by myself, no matter how much I despise it._

She _tried_ to ignore them but found herself giving away portions of her food, eying the ribs showing through translucent fabric and allowing them mouthfuls of water from her canteen. The water container was meant to keep her singing voice fresh but the sweating, panting dancing girls looked near faint by the end of the night, rubbing parched throats.

Still, she maintained that she was unaffected.

On the second night at Jabba’s before Fett would arrived, they had taken to curling up with her, pressed into her robes for what little warmth they could get. As they huddled together like children on the pile of threadbare pillows, Ben watched over them and cradled her forehead, cursing her soft heart.

They were so young and yet this was all they had ever known. Ben tucked one of her robes tighter around the shoulders of Feen, whose face was pressed into her thigh.

 _I can’t leave them behind,_ Ben thought in the darkness of the throne room, _I’ve failed enough people._

 

“Cody,” Rex hailed, meeting his brother as he descended the ramp of the transport ship. “Good to see you again. Any word on General Kenobi since we last spoke?”

“No, I’m afraid not.” Cody fell in step with him as they headed for Senator Amidala’s apartment. That was where Skywalker was often found when not at the Jedi Temple. Discretion was key so it was just the two of them who would speak to the Jedi. “I still need to speak to General Skywalker. He should know more about what the Jedi Council was willing to divulge and then we can put together a better picture of what’s happened.”

The blond vod snorted. “You don’t believe Kenobi is in danger then?”

“Her?” Cody shot him a droll look. “Trouble always finds her. I know she can handle herself but I’d rather be there with the 212th to provide backup.”

“Understandable.”

“Did Skywalker tell you why she might have left without notice?” They reached Rex’s speeder and climbed in, then they were dodging other traffic as they flew further into the city.

The 501st Captain gripped the steering wheel. “He’s been tightlipped about her. He doesn’t seem happy.”

“I imagine not,” Cody scoffed. The Senator’s building was already in sight.

“No, I mean he doesn’t seem happy with her.” Rex considered his next words carefully. “He’s angry, I think. Very angry about something she did.”

The scarred vod raised a brow. “More so than usual?”

“Much more so,” Rex replied grimly.

Cody hummed, rubbing a hand over his helmet.  “That certainly doesn’t ease my worries.”

 

The most difficult part of planning their escape was convincing the born-slaves that it was even possible. Nu and Feen had refused to even consider the idea, glancing around fearfully while Mah had gotten a calculating look in her eyes.

 _One out of three isn’t such a bad start_ , Ben conceded before slowly outlining her strategy.

They had little time to talk as Jabba seemed to figure out that Ben’s songs tended towards the slower spectrum when she was allowed a preference. He began to demand faster, livelier tunes. The trio often provided backup vocals as well as their choreography. Ben went through the melodies she knew, then the tunes that she’d heard throughout her travels, some in Basic and others in various languages.

 _If I wasn’t planning on getting us out of here soon, I would run out of songs to sing,_ she thought with a frown before starting the second chorus of a drinking ditty she’d heard in the Lower Levels of Coruscant.

“Smile, Ben. He likes it when we smile,” Nu murmured as she swirled past the robed woman, her own lips stretched in a megawatt beam.

After fighting her initial reaction to sneer at the Hutt, she followed the other’s instruction. Making her moves more agreeable and earning a rowdy cheer from Jabba’s colorful collection of lackeys. Her long scarf covered her head and draped around her shoulders in a flow of fabric, only letting the audience see the lower half of her face. She’d overheard them mention it added an air of mystery to her that enhanced her performances and as long as her voice worked, that was all they cared about.

Ben felt as if her teeth were going to shatter from clenching so hard. _But I suppose smiling won’t hurt my prospects. A compliant slave is not a suspicious slave. Once Mah gets the key from the guard, we shall be long gone before the bounty hunter returns tomorrow._

Mah didn’t get the chance to steal the key. Jabba, in a fit of cruel boredom, opened the Rancor pit and let the Twi’lek fall with a startled shriek.

“The wise and powerful Jabba wishes to feed his pet,” TC-70 explained, standing by his Master’s side, “And a twin is but a spare.”

“Blast,” Ben cursed before using the Force to unlock her ankle chain and diving across the sandy floor after her friend.

Jabba and his companions laughed heartily as they watched them tumbled into the pit, peering down at them through metal grate flooring. She pushed the injured Twi’lek behind her. Mah cradled her arm which had taken the brunt of her fall. “Stay back, it will smell the blood and go for you first.”

Mah scrabbled backwards until she was against the farthest wall of the rocky cavern.

The Rancor was… bigger than Ben had expected and she found herself wishing for her lightsaber. But she was nothing if not a woman of ingenuity.

“Hello there,” Ben greeted, holding her hand in front of her to make a connection to the beast’s mind. Mah whimpered behind her as it growled loudly, resisting her influence. “You don’t wish to hurt us.”

Drool dripped from its jaw as it bellowed, taking lumbering steps toward her.

Steadying her mind, the ex-Jedi felt the strength of the Force wash over her and repeated, “ _You don’t wish to hurt us._ ”

The crowd hooted and hollered until the Rancor slowed to a stop and closed it’s gaping mouth, blinking lethargically at the human in front of it. Confused, angry voices filtered down and Ben stifled a smirk.

She spoke with a clear, calm voice. “You don’t wish to hurt us, but you are hungry.”

The beast snarled in agreement.

Her words turned sweet. “You want something meatier. You want to eat the Hutt.”

It was dead silent as the Rancor turned it’s massive head towards the opening overhead. A trill of pleasure thrummed in it’s throat at the smell of Jabba, who was speedily moving his throne out of view.

“You are so very hungry.” Ben backed away next to Mah. “You want to eat the Hutt. _Now._ ”

With an earsplitting roar, it’s clawed hand reached up and ripped the out metal grate. Dirt and rocks showered down and the beast began to climb, the room above in an uproar of horror. Jabba’s panicked voice followed by TC-70 reiterating his words in Basic could be heard demanding his guards to shoot it. Feet thumped against the floor as his minion’s scattered, a loyal few pelting the irate Rancor with blaster bolts that only served to anger it more.

Ben checked over Mah’s arm in the meantime, waiting for the screams to die down.

“That is one way of escaping,” Mah joked.

The Twi’lek let herself be picked up in Ben’s arms before the human crouched and jumped through the hole made by the Rancor. It had busted through the exit, letting harsh sunlight flood the perpetually shadowy throne room. It looked as if an earthquake and a tornado had torn through the space, smears of blood across the floor but no bodies.

The spot were Jabba usually lay was poignantly empty, the translator droid a pile of twisted scrap next to it.

“Nu!” Mah called. “Feen!”

Two heads poked out from behind a half crumbled archway. The shaking Twi’lek shouted with joy at the sight of them alive, charging forward with a rattle of chains.

“I’m glad to see you’re all in one piece. I am sorry for the scare, I hadn’t planned for things to work out this way” Ben said with an apologetic furrow of her brow. “Let’s get those chains off, shall we?”

She waved her hand again and the metal snapped apart.

“How did you do that?” The Twi’lek women gazed at her in awe, Nu reaching out a hand to touch her as if to make sure she wasn’t an apparition. “And how did you convince the Rancor to attack Jabba?”

Tearing some fabric from her robe, the human wrapped up Mah’s wounded arm tight before pulling down her scarf. Her hair shone a coppery red in the sunshine. “Here is a hint. My name is not actually Ben.”

Recognition dawned little by little across their faces. “You’re the Jedi, Kenobi!”

Shushing them with a wink, Ben pulled the scarf back over her head. “Ex-Jedi, but let’s keep this between us for now, hmm?”

They bobbed their heads vigorously. Feen exclaimed, her blue lekku wiggling, “Thank you for trusting us with this! We won’t betray your secret.”

Still muttering about Jedi and magic, the group of Twi’lek followed Ben as she led them through the rubble of the palace out into the blazing twin suns. The heat had never felt so good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The legend of the Witch of the Wastes begins. She entranced a Rancor to eat Jabba and freed herself and the slave girls.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot progresses and Jango speaks.

Slavery, it turns out, was an effective cure for alcoholism. The thought of putting a glass of Corellian brandy to her lips made Ben’s stomach queasy and her hands tremble. The former Jedi loathed admitting Cad Bane had been correct but she wasn’t blind to the truth. It was for the best that she’d gotten rid of her proclivity for the drink as her new job at Tamka’s bar required a clear head.

The necessity of a guard for the bar was due to the new workers the barkeep had hired, the Twi’lek girls whom she’d fled with from Jabba’s palace. Ben had put in a good word for them and Tamka was willing to keep them as waitresses if they brought in more customers. Despite their protests and wishes to remain with her, Ben made the trio promise that as soon as they had enough credits saved up they would head back to their home world where they could be safe.

 _Or safer_ , Ben thought reluctantly, _there is no safe place in this galaxy any longer._

The patrons of the bar were eager to be around the lovely women but their hands and claws stayed away under the Witch of the Wastes watchful eyes.

Ben thought the rumors spread about her were preposterous, but she wouldn’t deny them if it helped keep her friends safe. They whispered that she had conjured a monster to devour Jabba and smash his palace to rubble with the power of her singing. They said she wore so many robes because she was more magic than woman, that she hid herself because her beauty was great and terrible like the blazing suns. They said to see her true form would blind you.

 _Fanciful drivel._ Ben rolled eyes as a customer gave her spot against the wall a wide berth. She’d chosen the position because it allowed her to view the entire room without obstruction.

That’s why she noticed Jango Fett as soon as he stepped foot into the bar. He was in his signature armor but his helmet was off to avoid the stir his infamous appearance would cause. She recognized him, the original face of the clones, but to the multitude he was just another bounty hunter and there were plenty in attendance already. Mah spotted him next, tapping her sister Nu to inform her and then moving to guide Feen away.

Ben adjusted her scarf around her head and mouth.

The Mandalorian wove through the crowd at a measured pace but headed straight to Ben. He sat in the seat next to hers and they both took in the lively atmosphere of the bar.

“Did you really expect me not to notice a Jedi when they’re but a yard away from me?”

Keeping both hands out in the open, she shrugged glibly and met the bounty hunter’s shrewd gaze with her own steady blue one. Her voice pitched low to avoid any unwanted ears listening in, she responded, “I had hoped. And it’s Ben, if you don’t mind.”

“Ben,” he repeated, placing his helmet onto the small table between them. “So, it is true then? You really were exiled.”

The redhead rubbed her temple. “Has it reached the holonet already?”

“No,” he replied, casually resting one hand on his blaster holster. “Got that piece of information from Cad Bane over a game of sabacc. He’s a sore loser, that one.”

“I didn’t know you two were so chummy.” She pulled at her scarf, bringing Fett’s attention to it and her need for anonymity. “Anyway I can convince you not to spread word of my whereabouts?”

“Perhaps.” His eyes were darker than she remembered and there were new scars on his face. Or perhaps she hadn’t noticed them before. The lights of Kamino were blinding in comparison to the tan atmosphere of the Tamka’s bar, which often revealed more than it hid. “The Hutt Lords would pay handsomely for information about what happened to one of their own. However, I can be convinced to keep that knowledge to myself.”

“How… gallant of you,” she drawled, keeping her body loose under his examination. “You will expect something in return, no doubt?”

“I never do anything for free and you did cost me my reward for the Rodian.”

“I apologize; I didn’t have you in mind while I was fighting for my life.” Ben let the lack of pity she felt show in her voice before slipping back into her stoic bargaining tone. “What would the payment be exactly?”

Fett didn’t answer her, instead he signaled for a drink. Mah wandered over a few moments later, a tray in hand with a variety of beverages. Ben made sure not to acknowledge the Twi’lek as the green-skinned woman handed her a glass. “Fett, you can’t expect me to agree when I don’t know what the risks are.”

He accepted the glass given to him and held it to his lips, his other hand guiding his blaster to aim at Mah’s stomach. “I think I can, _Ben_.”

She refrained from wincing. “You are a bounty hunter but you have honor, you wouldn’t shoot an unarmed civilian.”

“You’re right.” Fett had yet to take a drink. “But I would shoot a civilian that is trying to poison me.”

“What?” Ben’s eyes grew wide and when she turned to the Twi’lek, Mah paled. “You didn’t… Please, tell me you didn’t.”

“Now,” the Mandalorian set the drink aside, untouched. “As you were saying?”

Her lips pulled thin and she set down her glass as well. Ben nodded. “Very well then, Fett. I agree to your terms. Let the lady go.”

He waved the other woman away and Mah tossed her a remorseful look before fleeing. Ben returned to meet Fett’s triumphant smirk. “You recognized the Twi’lek.”

“I wouldn’t survive very long in this business if I didn’t take notice of my surroundings, Obi-Wan. You should know that better than anyone.” The bar continued to thrive around their isolated pocket of space, like a stream around a rock. Fett leaned back against the wall, making a show of relaxing when she knew that he’d had atleast five plans of escape should things go awry.

“It’s Ben,” she emphasized, pursing her mouth. “And unfortunately, I do. Let’s just… get this over with, shall we?”

Fett took her glass, swallowing the amber liquid down in a single gulp and hissing in pleasure at the burn. “Corellian brandy, figures you like the expensive stuff. What’s the hurry? We’ve got all the time in the galaxy. I’d love to hear about the War, heard you lot won. The Republic. To be honest, I didn’t expect that.”

It annoyed Ben that she agreed with him. She hadn’t expected it either; it felt as if the War was never going to end and then when it did, she had lost the life she cared so deeply for. “The War dragged on for far too long, I’m grateful that it is over.”

“I’m sure you are,” he replied, offering her a sly smile. “How were my clones? Good soldiers, weren’t they?”

“They are good men,” Ben stated. Her heart panged at the memory of them. “And much more charming than you are. It makes me wonder what kind of man you would have been, if things had been different.”

Fett’s smile fell. “You Jedi-”

“I’m not a Jedi anymore,” She cut in, tone sharp with hurt. “And you can blame the Jedi all you like but your actions are your own, aren’t they? Heritage is not solely indicative of choice. You could have become a farmer, or a trader, but you chose to be a bounty hunter. What does that say about you and your supposed free will?”

“Watch it,” he growled. “You don’t have a lightsaber to block my shots. I could dispatch each slave girl before you could stand.”

Ben released a dry chuckle. “Oh, Jango, you would have done it already, if you thought it would endear me to your purpose.”

There was another thick hush as the two gaged one another, searching the other’s face for tells or weaknesses. Ben adjusted the collar of her robe. Fett tapped the empty glass against the table between them. Any closer and their knees would be touching. Any closer and they could kiss.

Then Fett laughed shortly, bored of their game. “Fine, _Ben_ , have it your way for now. I still have my favor.”

“Whatever that may be,” she complained, pulling her scarf higher as he continued to inspect her, thoroughly. “Must you be so cryptic?”

His expression was mocking and she wondered how a familiar face could be so alien to her. “Jedi aren’t the only ones who are allowed to be mysterious.”

“Oh, please don’t start that,” Ben groaned, earning her a wicked smirk that made her many layers feel lacking.

 

Padme met Rex and Cody at the door to her inner rooms after they had been let in by her handmaiden. A brittle smile etched itself on her beautiful face. “Good evening, gentlemen. I’m afraid now is not a good time to speak to Anakin.”

Cody, having expected this, carefully pushed past her. “I’m sorry, Senator, but my General is AWOL and Skywalker is only person who I can speak to about this.”

He felt Rex follow after the other issued his own apology to the small woman as she sputtered but stepped aside to let him in.

Anakin stood at the window, hands clasped behind his back. His silhouette was dark against the brilliant lights of the city. His voice was oddly dispassionate when he spoke, “I thought you might come to see me, Commander Cody.”

The Jedi glanced over his shoulder. “Should have guessed Rex was going to join you.”

“Sir, I apologize for the intrusion, but if you have any information regarding the location and status of General Kenobi, please, I need to hear it.” Cody kept his helmet by his side, standing at attention alongside his brother. “We’ve spoken to the Jedi Council but they’ve given us nothing.”

“No,” Anakin said quietly, “I suspect they wouldn’t. Why would they want to tell you that your General abandoned the Order?”

A choked silence gripped the air before Rex stammered, “But- But, Sir, that’s not true! General Kenobi wouldn’t run away from her responsibilities!”

Cody blinked out of his shock to add without doubt, “My General would never leave the Order. Not willingly.”

“I thought the same,” the Jedi stated, stepping away from the window to face them. The two stared back, disbelief and confusion fixed on their faces. As they watched, he unclipped the second lightsaber on his belt. Cody had held that piece of metal more times than he cared to count, he’d recognize it blindfolded.  

“No,” Cody whispered. “You’re lying. She wouldn’t abandon us.”

He felt Rex’s hand on his shoulder but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from his General’s weapon in Skywalker’s palm.

“Obi-Wan’s abandoned us all,” Anakin stated darkly and in the flash of traffic Cody thought he saw the man’s eyes glint yellow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That light-hearted atmosphere didn't last long, did it?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all about Ben and Boba. Sorry if you wanted to know more about what happened with Anakin and the Troopers, there will be time enough for that.

“You’re joking.” Ben sat down heavily on one of the seats aboard the Slave 1. “You want to use me as a sparring partner for your son?”

“To help him learn the ways of the Jedi so he can use it against them. That’s the sum of it, yes.” Jango Fett crossed his arms, shameless. Next to him, Boba stood eying the former Jedi warily. “What better way for him to learn to kill Jedi than to practice on one?”

“I’m an ex-Jedi,” she corrected, feeling a dull hitch in her chest. “You said it yourself, I don’t have a lightsaber, what could I possibly teach him?”

He let his hand fall onto Boba’s shoulder and the boy leaned into the touch. “Did you forget our disagreement on Kamino? I remember you losing hold of your weapon for a large portion of that match and still putting up a challenge. Same difference.”

“How can you trust I won’t harm the boy?” She crossed her legs and propped her head up with her fist. “You’re not exactly an admirer of Jedi, even former ones. Why place your son’s life in my hands?”

“You’ve never tried to hurt him, just me.” He stopped before begrudgingly adding, “On Geonosis, you let him escape with me. That did show some honor, for a Jedi.”

“Ex-Jedi.”

“A Jedi will always be a Jedi.”

“Unless they become a Sith,” Ben countered, tapping her finger against the arm of her seat. She remembered Geonosis; the little boy had been so worried for his father. When the Force prompted her to guide the child to Fett, she followed it’s will despite her own doubts. “Will I be staying on Tatooine? I don’t wish to be found by anyone for the time being, so I would prefer it if I remained on this planet.”

“Boba will be staying with you here while I’m on my next job. I’ll return when I can to check up on him.” Jango moved past her to the controls of his ship. “It shouldn’t take me too long so get to work teaching him what you can.”

Boba and Ben shared a suspicious look.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Ben asked again, standing to her feet.

“I don’t have to warn you that if anything were to happen to my son under your watch…” Jango trailed off, sorting through his gear and handing Boba a smaller pack to take with him.

“Yes, yes, you’d hunt me down and nowhere in the galaxy would be safe.” Ben waved away the threat before yielding unhappily, “You know I would die before I let danger befall a child, regardless if he is _your_ son.”

“Precisely.” The bounty hunter smirked before starting his ship.

 

Boba was a quick study, Ben noted with a hint of admiration. He took to her lessons much faster than Anakin had and was more willing to listen even if he didn’t care for his teacher. He had mentioned that many times. She had merely nodded and moved onto the next lesson, guiding his arms into the proper stance.

The Twi’lek trio had been aghast to learn of her new ‘apprentice’ but she convinced them that it would be alright and it was better to be on Fett’s good side than bad. Feen had clung extra tightly to her waist when the small boy had joined them at the bar for the first time, glaring enviously at the human stuck to her savior’s side.

Boba scoffed, above such juvenile emotions. If he stood a little closer, it was only to mock the Twi’lek and not to lessen his own loneliness.

At night, Ben pretended to be asleep when the child would pull his sleeping mat closer to hers.

During the day, she took him with her everywhere, if only so she could make sure he wouldn’t be kidnapped. Tattooine was still a slave planet and an unattended child was basically free labor. It had been so long since she’d had a youngling trailing alongside her, she’d often stop just to make sure he was still there. He’d meet her embarrassed smile with a bemused glare, saying nothing. The only time she felt a modicum of security was at her abode in the empty desert. Sand people and Jawas were the few species that wandered out that far and she could sense them long before they were near.

As days became weeks, there was a moment when he accomplished a difficult series of hits and it was Anakin that she reached out to praise, not Boba. Her hand lingered in the air above his head, ready to tousle his hair as she had often done with her former Padawan. His clever amber eyes observed her pained indecision and waited.

She inhaled shakily and banished the image of a golden-haired child from her mind, returning to the reality of warm brown skin and black hair. 

Slowly, she lowered her hand and the boy closed his eyes, pressing into the touch.

 

It was out in the sand, as the suns set and the sister moons rose, that she began his spiritual training.

“I know my buir said that I was supposed to learn about Jedi but this doesn’t seem very useful,” the young boy said, resting his hands on his knees as he knelt in meditation.

“Your buir has made me your teacher and this is one of my lessons. I can assure you it is just as important as any lightsaber technique or fighting stance. Even more important, I wager.” She could feel Boba’s doubt in the Force, keeping her eyes closed as she relaxed in her own pose. They were in the cool shade of a rocky outcropping near her home and dusk settling, bathing them in fading light. “Humor me, won’t you?”

The boy huffed but did as she asked.

 “You got kicked out of the Jedi, right? What’d you do?”

 _The quiet lasted longer than I expected,_ she thought, thanking the Force for the years of patience dealing with Anakin had taught her.

Ben heaved a sigh and answered. “I was a fool.”

“All Jedi are fools,” Boba snorted. “What makes you so different?”

“I allowed something to happen that shouldn’t have.” His confusion swirled in the air between them and she chose to indulge him by clarifying what she meant, it wasn’t as if he’d tattle to anyone besides his father, “I let my Padawan do something he shouldn’t have and as his Master I had to face the consequences.”

“So you didn’t actually do anything?” She could hear his astonishment without searching the Force. “You took the fall for that blond idiot?”

“That blond idiot was my Padawan at the time, so he was my responsibility.”

The dirt crunched underneath him as stirred crossly. “My buir says you are responsible for your own actions.”

Ben felt her eyebrows rise. She had guessed that Fett had believed in that philosophy, but it appeared she had hit the nail on the head. “That’s very wise of him to say, but life is not always so straightforward, my young Padawan.”

She opened her eyes just so she could watch his face scrunch up with disgust. “Gross, don’t call me that! I’m nothing like you Jedi scum.”

That pulled a chuckle out of her. “My apologies. How about I call you my young student?”

Boba darted his eyes away from her amused expression with a shrug. “I don’t care, just don’t call me Padawan. Or clone.”

She inclined her head. “As you wish.”

He rocked back onto his heels and rubbed his calves before sitting again. “So how long do you usually sit like this? To meditate?”

“Oh, hours. Sometimes days.”

His jaw dropped. “What?”

“The Force speaks, young Boba, and it has a lot to say to those who care to listen.”

He stared off into the horizon, expression thoughtful before shutting his eyes. Many hours passed in silence before she escorted them back to her home, his hand in hers, guiding him as he yawned and plodded along beside her.

 

Training was progressing steadily although several times Boba had griped of boredom when Ben made him practice the same moves over and over or when she would go on about some vague Jedi history lesson.

“Keep complaining and I will put a Padawan braid those locks of yours during the night.” She ruffled a hand through his hair as he kicked a rock in his path. They were just outside of Mos Eisley to buy a new vaporator because apparently the one she owned ‘makes the water taste like sand’.

Boba allowed the touch for a few moments then batted her away. “You’re lying. That’s a sacred Jedi practice; you wouldn’t do it as a joke.”

 _Oh, so he has been paying attention?_ She hid a smile behind her scarf. It had become her practice only to wear it in town, to keep up her mysterious image. As for Boba, he responded better to her lessons when he could see her face and gauge her reactions.

“Since I am no longer a Jedi, who knows what I might do?” She tucked her hands into her robe sleeves.

Boba rolled his eyes in the brazen way only a twelve-year-old could. “Whatever, let’s just get some fruit while we’re at the market. You don’t have anything good to eat in that hovel you call a house. What did you even do for food before I arrived?”

“I mostly meditated and absorbed energy through the Force. Sometimes the Jawas pass by and I buy food from them.” And she would eat at Tamka’s bar when she felt up to it, not that Boba needed to know that.

The boy shook his head. “Hopeless. You’re hopeless.”

“Thank the Force you’re here to help me then,” Ben jested with a sweeping bow of gratitude.

She felt her heart swell when Boba had to stifle a laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mama!Ben and Boba have a special place in my heart. She's afraid to love another child again, after Anakin, but Boba is willing to wait, even if he pretends like he's too cool for school. 
> 
>  
> 
> (I wish Obi-Wan could have raised Luke on Tattooine, that would have been such a good story. Sigh.)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two very different takes on abandonment. (Aka Yikes, Anakin, we need to get you some counseling, honey.)

Cody studied the stars as they flashed through the darkness of space, sending flickering light into the Negotiator’s command bridge. He remembered General Kenobi saying that she found them to be relaxing when she needed to puzzle through a problem with a calm mind. To be frank, he didn’t share the sentiment. Hyperspace always gave him a headache, the blinding streaks pierced even through his helmet screen.

But maybe if he stared hard enough he could find some missing link, some indication of why she had decided now of all times to desert all she had worked so hard to protect. There had to be a reason. The War was finally over, why would she leave them?

“Sir!” Waxer burst through the bridge doors, advancing on him frantically. Boil followed a step behind, gripping a comm in one hand. “Sir, you need to see this!”

“This had better be important, I’m in no mood for games,” Cody warned but allowed the other Troopers to transfer a clip from the comm to the main bridge holoprojector. 

“Trust us, Sir, it’s important,” Boil promised and pressed play.

Cody observed as the holo played out a scene in some disreputable dive. There was raucous music playing while a robed female sang sweetly, some tune in a language he didn’t recognize. She was located more toward the back, half hidden in the shadows of the already indistinct room. Twi’lek slave girls danced closer to the person recording, focusing charming smiles on someone to the right.

“Waxer, Boil,” Cody started, irritation creeping into his voice.

“Wait, Sir, please, just a few more seconds!” Waxer didn’t take his eyes of the holo.

Cody grit his teeth and focused back on the images playing about. His eyebrow jerked up when one of the Twi’lek fell through a trapdoor opened in the ground. Then he heard a voice, distinctly Hutt followed by the recorder, who was apparently a droid, speaking.

Cody turned his helmet to stare down the two Troopers. “What is thi-“

The singer dove across the room, following the slave girl down the hole and Cody’s heart leap into his throat. He knew that movement, he’d seen it dozens upon dozens of times in battle.

Tongue turned to lead, he watched raptly as the recording shifted to the two women in the pit. They were trapped in there, facing off against a _Rancor_. He felt himself pale. Then the robed one stepped forward and persuaded the beast to turn its attention upwards, to whom he was sure was Jabba the Hutt. The images turned shaky as the Rancor clawed its way through the metal grates and grabbed the shouting Hutt, a flurry of panic as others tried to escape its hungered wrath. There was some futile shooting and one of the beast’s limbs lashed out in anger. It smashed the droid into the wall behind it, causing its head to detach and roll from its crumpled body.

The recording device remained on even after the spinning stopped, it continued from a lower, sideways angle. Dirt clouded the air as the Rancor tore its way out of the building, just out of sight, letting harsh sunlight flood the area and they could see the room for the den of crime that it was.

There was nothing for a while as the dust settled.

Then the singer leapt out of the pit with the Twi’lek in her arms and Cody had to grip the edge of the projector to steady himself. The other slave girls joined the two and they spoke softly, too low for the recording to pick up but when the singer pulled down her scarf, sunlight hit her red hair like a beacon.

He swore softly under his breath, thanking the Force for this stroke of luck.

“It’s the General, Sir,” Boil said aloud what they already knew, proud and relieved all at once. “We found her.”

“Yes, you did,” he said, his gaze still fixed on the image of Obi-Wan Kenobi as she replaced her scarf and fled with three other women. “Excellent work, men.”

To the rest of the bridge, which had fallen silent at the mention of General Kenobi, Cody ordered shortly, “Set course to Tattooine, on the double!”

“Sir?” Waxer questioned, detecting the dread in his voice.

“I doubt we’re the first to see that holo,” Cody explained, moving past them to the computer database, searching through newly offered jobs for bounty hunters. “And I am certain that the other viewers don’t have the same mission we do. If anyone of importance discovers this holo, the General is in danger. A Hutt is dead and she’s on Tattooine. It’s not difficult to guess what will happen now.”

Waxer and Boil blanched, clearly not having thought of the implication of the recording on the holonet in their rejoicing. 

“Let’s just hope we get there in time,” Cody said, foreboding as he clenched the metal frame of the computer. On the screen, it displayed an exorbitantly large bounty for the person responsible for the murder of Jabba the Hutt.

 

Padme entered her bedroom chambers, keeping her steps soft on the lush carpet. It didn’t matter how silently she moved, Anakin knew where she was in the Force. That was both a comfort and a curse, the fact that he could always find her.

“Ani,” she called, “Are you in here?”

Scanning the dark room, Padme found him sitting at the edge of her bed, his face in his hands. Hurrying to his side, she pressed close, wrapping her hands around his and pulling them away. “Ani! What’s wrong?”

Anankin’s eyes were red-rimmed and he glared into the distance as he wiped his cheeks clear of tears. “I just can’t believe Obi-Wan would do this. And not just to me but to the men. I thought she cared about us, but she’s just as cold and detached as the rest of the Jedi.”

“I can’t say I understand her reasoning, but I’ve never known Obi-Wan to do anything out of selfishness,” Padme tried to reason but her husband jerked his hands out of her grip, sneering in disgust.

“Force, even you try to defend her, I thought I was your husband?”

“You are, but-“

“Don’t,” he retorted, “I’m tired of everyone making excuses for her. They just can’t see her the way I do, the way she really is.”

Padme sat back, feeling it in her bones that this wasn’t an argument that was worth fighting. Sometimes Anakin got an idea so fixed into his head that it was impossible to debate with him. It was an endearing quality when it was for the good, but when he decided that a dubious action was for the better, it was a nightmare.

“The Chancellor was right,” Anakin said after a pause, the hate in his voice startling her. “I can’t trust the Jedi.”

Padme opened her mouth and then shut it, her thoughts going so many different directions that it was hard to focus on one. “Obi-Wan and the Jedi are people too, Anakin, they make mistakes. It doesn’t mean they’re evil.”

“Doesn’t it?” He asked and his shadowy form turned towards her. “What makes them better than the Separatists? Count Dooku was the one to surrender and end the War, not them. No, they’re too proud. They would have the War continue and have countless lives lost than humble themselves with defeat.”

“Anakin, I don’t know where all of this is coming from.” She shook her head in confusion and a growing amount of alarm. “The Jedi did all they could to try and end the War quickly, they lost many among their ranks, you know that. They were relieved when the war ended.”

He grunted evasively and stood, done with the conversation. “I have to go. I will come to you later.”

She called after him but in a few long strides he was out the door and she was alone.

 _This is not the man I married_ , Padme thought in the empty room, cradling her face as tears burned in her eyes. _I don’t know who he is anymore. He’s become a stranger to me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I lift you up just to bring you back down. 
> 
> Padme, sweetheart, you can't marry an emotionally unstable 19-year-old who has severe anger and abandonment issues and expect everything to work out okay. That's just not realistic. I try to write Anakin as a mix of the movie version and the TCW version. It's been fun because he's interesting but also crazy as kriff at times. 
> 
> No Ben & Boba in this chapter, sorry, but the next one for sure.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, finally an update. Sorry, I've gotten addicted to a new game, uh, Star Wars Heroes or something? Idk, it's fun but time consuming.

The ceiling fans spun lazily as heat began to rise in the bar. The suns outside were just peeking over the horizon as the last few patrons of the night before wobbled away to their homes or ships.  In the tired hush of morning, Nu and Mah wiped down the counters and collected empty glasses as Feen swept the cool stone floor. Tamka was at the register, counting the night’s gains while taking down which beverages to reorder.

Boba lay against Ben’s side in her usual sentry spot. He was fast asleep as young boys ought to be after staying awake all night and patrolling the bar with Ben to make sure everyone stayed on their best behavior. 

Ben carefully carded through his hair, allowing his head to rest against her shoulder and chest. They had many things to do before his father returned but the lessons could wait for now.

Yet again she wondered if she was doing the right thing by teaching him what she knew of the Jedi. She was not someone who went back on a deal but if it meant training a boy to kill her people…

The Force was quiet when she meditated upon this dilemma and she could consider that an answer in many ways. She released her sadness and anxiety into the Force, hoping for the best.

A part of her needed to teach him, needed that connection and purpose. To perhaps right the wrongs she had committed with Anakin. If she could impart a measure of kindness or integrity then the boy may not end up a ruthless bounty hunter like his father. Jango Fett was honorable, to a degree, but she could not in clear conscience call him a good man. He was what he been made to be, but he was also his choices.

Boba jerked agitatedly in his sleep, his face twisting as if in a nightmare.

Humming a winding melody deep in her chest, she let the vibrations flow through her to him. Her warmth and presence seemed to calm him and his face went slack as he slumbered on.

 _He’s just a boy_ , she thought, brushing a stray hair from his closed eyelids. _He deserves to have a choice to which path he will take. I only hope that I don’t guide him down the wrong one._

Letting soft words slip through her lips, Ben sang and pressed him closer.

 

When Jango saw the bounty on the holonet, he wasn’t surprised. In fact, he had wondered why it had taken the Hutts so long to figure out what had happened to their fellow crime lord. The Rancor must have done a more thorough job then he had thought to have left so few witnesses to question. Or perhaps it was this ‘Witch of the Wastes’ that held their tongues, through fear or respect or both.

He was already on his way back to Tattooine. Kenobi would die before allowing a child to be enslaved or killed, but that didn’t mean his son was out of danger. The bounty hunters would come for her and Boba would no doubt be by her side.

His son would soon realize his mission was approaching the finishing point.

 

Ben sensed the discharge just before the fruit next to her exploded in a spray of chunks and juice. The food vendor she had been bartering with screamed and dropped to the floor. Reaching for her lightsaber and coming into contact with a blaster instead, Ben swore and dove to the side as more rounds followed.

“Always exciting to be in the city,” she muttered to herself, crouching behind another fruit stall and calculating the various sources of blasterfire. “And here I thought exile was meant to be dull.”

There were a group of assailants but their attacks weren’t coordinated. Bounty hunters then and they were working separately. Good. That made them easier to out run. She could take them without her lightsaber but Boba was with her. He needed to get to a safer place.

Throwing her senses open, she searched for the boy in the Force and found him in the alley opposite her. She could feel his excitement, frustration, and anger mixed together.

“Of course, why would he be closer?” Ben asked, waiting for a lull between volleys before sprinting across the open area. She felt the brush of searing air from each barely dodged bolt and knew she was going to have to buy a new robe. “Boba!”

He stood up from his hiding place behind a barrel, relief in his eyes. “Ben, they’re- Look out!”

Ben was already in motion. Hauling the boy into her arms before leaping onto the nearest roof, she smelt the charring of the wall they had just stood in front of.

The twin suns beat down on their heads and the rooftops were nearly white in the blinding light. She could hear people scrambling up behind her. “Our pursuers are persistent.”

Boba flailed in her arms and she struggled to hold him as he adjusted himself to be able to look over her shoulder. "I see six but there’s probably more,” he determined, “Didn’t you say that you murdered Jabba? The Hutt Clan must’ve put out a huge reward for whoever can bring in his killer.”

Turning sharply as an armored Weequay pulled himself onto the roof in front of her, she clarified through her scarf, “I did NOT murder him. That was the Rancor’s doing, I merely suggested it.”

“I think it still counts,” he argued, leaning further so that his stomach was against her shoulder, “Don’t you have a blaster I can use? These guys aren’t even trying to hide that they’re chasing us!”

They were firing their weapons without care for any civilians. She needed to get them to a smaller, less open area to limit the damage.

Ben kicked through the nearest door, hurtling into the room and startling the sleeping Quarren occupant. “Sorry to disturb you,” she said contritely before heading to the room’s exit and rushing down the long hallway of what was apparently an apartment complex. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the low lighting and she noted the rows of doors on each side.

With one hand she fumbled for the blaster attached to her belt while the other held the boy’s waist against her chest. “Here, set it to stun, I don’t want to be responsible for a child murdering people.”

“You’re no fun,” Boba grumbled and shot the Weequay and two Rodians who’d managed to stay on their trail, hooting as they collapsed onto the faded carpet.

She flashed a breathless grin that he couldn’t see before bringing out her comm and calling her Twi’lek friends. Nu answered with a curious tilt of her head. “Ben? What is it?”

“Nu, I have bounty hunters chasing me, I need someplace to hide Boba while I take care of them. Meet me at the market square in five minutes and bring Mah and Feen in disguise with an extra robe for Boba. You’ll need to make it look like your fleeing in terror so he can covertly join your group.”

Eyes wide, Nu assured her, “We’ll be there. Stay safe!"

The former Jedi hummed noncommittally before shouldering her way into another room, this one empty.

“Perfect,” she exclaimed, setting the boy down. Mos Eisley was a tightly crowded maze of buildings even to its own inhabitants had difficulty navigating at times. They could lose the bounty hunters with no trouble. “My young pupil, I need you to-”

The hair stood up on the back of her neck and she whirled around, shoving Boba behind her. The boy seemed to realize this wasn’t a time to assert his bravery as he carefully hid his weapon, peeking through the space between her arm and torso.

Cad Bane leaned against the doorway she had just forced open.

“Bane,” she said, feeding her growing panic into the Force. “What a lovely surprise. I suppose it’s foolish of me to hope you’re here on holiday.”

With deliberate laziness, the Duros pushed up the rim of his hat. “I’m ’fraid so, Kenobi. Or whatever it was you’ve taken to callin’ yourself.”

Ben’s breathing was erratic from her run but she endeavored to sound steady. “I still don’t have a lightsaber.”

“We both know you don’t need it to be deadly,” he drawled, his smirk razor thin as he spat out his toothpick. His blasters were still in their holsters but she was intimately aware of how quickly that could change. “I told you I’d be the one to kill you.”

“So you did,” she replied before using a Force push to shove him off balance. Bane’s weapons appeared in his hands but the shots went into the ceiling as he stumbled backwards.

Hauling Boba over her should once more, she threw them through the window to their right. It was a short drop from the second floor to the street and five paths twisted out in front of her.

In a flash decision, she tucked them back into an alcove against the apartment’s wall. Her intensified senses were so attune to the surroundings that she could hear Boba’s heart pounding in his chest, a mimic of her own.

Bane was at the window, trying to locate where they had fled to from a higher vantage point. The curves of the different paths made it impossible to see which one she had chosen.

Ben heard him snarl and the retreat of footsteps.

Boba stayed perfectly still where he was clutched against her chest.

“He’s gone,” she whispered, loosening her grip. “Quickly, let’s head to the square before he returns.”

Boba only nodded.

 

Ben knew that Boba was not the same child Anakin had been, but she expected some sort of exuberance for having evaded so many bounty hunters and the infamous Cad Bane. But the boy’s mind was elsewhere and he was troubled.

“Focus on the here and now,” she chided, pulling up her hood and pressing him closer to her side as they wove through the dense crowd. “The danger is not over yet.”

The Force felt calm, so there was little cause for alarm but she had thought the same at the fruit stall. _Better safe than sorry._

“Ben,” the boy said. “I need to tell you something.”

She saw a blur of green in the distance that might have been Nu or Ma and hurried onward, dragging Boba with her. “I’m sure it can wait just a minute, my youngling.”

He ripped his hand out of hers and she lurched to a stop. “Boba, what-“

“He wants me to kill you.”

Ben felt her body go cold under the burning sun.

Boba stood tall and faced her, amber eyes shining as he pleaded with his stare.

She couldn’t speak. She could hardly breathe. By the stars, how had she failed yet another person under her care?

“Ben,” Boba begged. “Say something.”

“I…” Her voice was dazed. “It’s alright, Boba.”

“What?” The boy shook his head furiously, clenching his fists until his knuckles turned white. The blaster was still in his right hand. “No, it’s not! I’m supposed to kill you, Ben! Don’t you get it? I have to. You’re a Jedi and I’m a Fett.”

Ben was reeling. A part of her should have expected this. A part of her did. It still hurt. Her lips began to move on their own, a long forgotten lesson passed on by a Master who had left her much too soon. “We are the ones who decide who we choose to be.”

He trembled and for once looked entirely the child that he was. “Ben, I don’t know what to do.”

At that her spirit returned to her. Gentling the slope of her brows, she replied with a steady, kind voice, “Do what you must, but only because you believe it is right.”

A heavy atmosphere permeated the air as the crowd continued to travel around them, oblivious to the monumental choice taking place before them. Ben closed her eyes and accepted what the Force would bring.

She heard the dull thud of an object hitting the floor and a moment later a pair of arms wrapped around her waist. Looking down, she found Boba burying his face into her stomach. “I can’t,” he said, tearful and angry. “I can’t do it. I’m a failure.”

“No, my child,” Ben replied sadly, returning the embrace. “You are my greatest success.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ngl, I cried a little for Obi-Wan and Boba. Those poor, poor souls. 
> 
> (Wow, Ben's love interests are totally not righteous, my dudes. That needs to change ASAP.)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yooo, sorry for the wait, I had a hard time making this chapter work. I went through like three re-writes and I like this one the best. There's Desert Family antics, construction oddly enough, and more domesticity.

With bounty hunters crawling all over the city, Ben and Boba retreated to her hut at the edge of the Jundland Wastes, relying on the Twi’lek trio to bring provisions to the remote home. To fill up the free space in their usual routine that would have been dedicated to trips to Tamka’s bar, they set to work repairing the faulty vaporator.

“Still tastes like sand,” Boba criticized after taking a test sip.  

Ben grimaced as she swallowed her own mouthful. “Think of it this way, it builds character.”

Next, they started to carefully expand her work cellar to make room for a hydroponic system in which plants might be convinced to grow. Ben lamented her lost lightsaber; it would have been so easy to cut through the hard packed sand and stone. They made due with what laser tools they had, carving out the cooler underground space while discussing which seeds to buy and if importing a hardy breed of fish was worth the effort.

“I never thought I’d say I miss vegetables,” Boba said as he paused to wipe sweat from his brow, “but I can’t wait to grow some tomatoes.”

Ben collected the rubble from carving into a bucket. “We are of the same mind, young one. I would trade you for a Stewjoni plum in an instant.”

A dry look was shot in her direction.

“I jest, I jest.” She placated. “…You’re worth atleast five plums.”

“Ben!” He laughed.

After their daily excavation, they continued on with their regular sparring session followed by meditation as the suns set. As they prepared for bed, Boba approached her with schematics for another building with six additional rooms, fidgeting with nerves.

“For guests,” Boba explained, his face reddening, as she traced a particular pair of rooms with their respective names above them. They were right next to each other. He’d drawn a bigger room for her, she noted and had to bite the inside of her cheek.

“For guests,” she agreed, taking mercy on the poor boy.

Ben took the time to carefully study the pieces of flimsi, impressed by the thorough details sketched onto the illustrations. “Well then, we shall have to buy another vaporator if we intend on hosting this many people. Perhaps two vaporators. And the hydroponics garden is going to have to be expanded.”

Brightening, the boy jumped into describing his plans in earnest, down to the supplies needed and the day-to-day progression it would take. Ben listened and stretched her back, muscles still warm from their earlier exercise. She schooled her face diplomatically but her eyes dance with mirth.

The domesticity was peaceful and healing and productive.

Of course, it doesn’t last.

 

The pair sat inside the coolness of the home while the suns were at their zenith, meditating in unison. Ben was trying to teach Boba to detect danger before it striked. Like all the clones, he boasted highly attuned senses so it would not be a difficult task to enhance that skill.

Ben kept her breathing steady and smothered a jolt of anxiety as she sensed Jango Fett breach the planet’s atmosphere. Recognizing his Force signature, she hunted for him and found him roughly five miles from the lonely abode. She knew he would be waiting for her.

Ben decided to meet Jango Fett alone. She left Boba practicing katas under the faithful watch of a worried Nu and a furious Mah, come by to drop off synstone mix for building only to discover their friend was once again facing off with the older Fett. Feen had tearfully clung to her arm and offered to go with her but after the last incident with the Twi’leks, she did not want the bounty hunter anywhere near them.

She did not repeat her mistake as with the Hardeen incident. Deception is seldom the best option when establishing trust, so she told Boba the truth. The boy had quieted at the mention of his father but did not protest her decision. She felt his pained uncertainty, torn between her and his buir, and soothed his mind with her quietness. She knew what it was like to care for someone who hurt you with their bad choices.  

 

The bounty hunter landed his ship in the Jundland Wastes, the rocky canyons providing sparse shade from the blazing suns. He was waiting at the ramp, helmet on, when she reached him and halted about five meters away.

“You ordered your son to kill me,” Ben started the conversation, as the other had merely stared, gauging her knowledge of the situation. “I must admit, I had expected better from you.”

Head tilting, a modified voice responded, “I can see that he did not complete the job.”

“No,” she answered, “But he tried.”

His hand flew to his blaster and she continued hurriedly, only just refraining from scoffing. “I didn’t hurt him, you dolt. _I_ would never harm a child or willfully put him in danger.”

That was met with silence. A gust of wind blew through the canyon like a muffled scream, pelting the Mandalorian’s armor with sand and ruffling her robes.

The righteous anger that she had been fighting to control since the moment she’d learned of this plot swelled up in her like a flood. It rose up until it blurred her vision with red like a mirage in the desert. She had been ready to finish the job Mace Windu had begun and lop off the man’s head from his shoulders. She could strike him down where he stood and be wholly justified.

Ben studied the man from his scuffed boots to his helmet antenna. He was a callous killer, a cold blooded bounty hunter, and a warrior bound by a bloody tradition. He was also the father of a boy who loved him very much.

She released the hate in her heart.

Qui-Gon would have been pleased by how she had found it in herself to understand him. Not to approve, but to recognize why a man like Jango would set such a task for a child he treasured so dearly. A child she had also come to care for a great deal. Far more than was acceptable for a Jedi.

 _But I am no Jedi,_ Ben thought and sighed.

“I did not come here to fight you or keep you from your son, although at this point I have every right to.” Ben stared coolly at him from under her hood and spun on her heel, knowing he would not shoot her in the back. “He’s waiting to see who will survive this meeting, let’s not keep him in suspense.”

She waited several long minutes until she heard the crunch of gravel and felt the presence of another by her side.

Jango kept gaze straight ahead, his helmet off as an indication of temporary ceasefire. “He’s a good kid," he said, "better than I deserve.”

Ben adjusted her scarf around her mouth as the wind picked up again. “On that we are in agreement.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t come at me like ‘Ben should have DRAGGED Mango Punch by the damn SCALP. what are you doing??’ because this is the same person who cradled Maul (who killed Qui-Gon AND Satine, his beloved Master and the Love of his Life and basically hunted Obi-Wan for practically their whole lives) in his arms while he died (after killing him for the SECOND TIME) and COMFORTED HIM that his death and their tragic lives were not in vain, like. Bruh. Try to find a more saintly Jedi, I’ll wait. 
> 
> So yeah, like parents of divorce, she's making nice for the sake of the kid and not drop-kicking him in the chest like she WANTS to. But don't think she's going to let this go, she's arranged a parental guidance lecture with a 25 bullet-point slideshow for Jango to endure. He's gonna learn today.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time, no read. (From the bottom of my heart: My bad) Today we have plot, love, and threats of violence! SAND FAM IS BACK. And yet again Anakin has Decisions to make. Will he chose correctly???? Statistically speaking, probably not!

Anakin stormed into the Chancellor’s office, not bothering to knock despite the late hour. Palpatine had always told him that he was welcome any time to talk and he needed the elder man’s support and wisdom desperately.

“Chancellor, I-” Anakin’s greeting died on his lips as he observed the scene before him. He found his voice again a moment later with an incredulous, threatening question of:  “Count Dooku?”

The two men didn’t seem to notice him, despite his flamboyant entrance. Count Dooku stood facing the Chancellor’s desk, his hands in restraints but no hostility in his posture. Palpatine’s face was harsh in a way Anakin had never seen before, colder and without any of the cordiality he’d been accustomed to. It was the face of a stranger.

Anakin faltered, unsure if he had interrupted an important peace treaty discussion or a secret rendezvous between leaders.

“Young Skywalker,” the Count acknowledged at length. His form was a dark silhouette that loomed unreasonably tall in the false lighting. “Do come in, we have much to discuss.”

“Careful, Dooku,” the Chancellor warned before turning a tight smile to Anakin, gentling his tone. “My boy, I was not expecting you, what brings you here at this hour?”

The Jedi Knight took a cautious step forward, shifting so that his lightsaber was in reach. “I wanted to speak with you, but if this is a bad time..?”

Dooku finally turned to meet his gaze and his expression made Anakin’s stomach roil uneasily. “Your timing could not be better.”

“Actually, that-” fumbled Chancellor, uncharacteristically off balance, “I’m afraid we are deliberating on a sensitive political topics-”

“Now, now, he deserves to know the truth, don’t you think?” The Count’s eloquent tone intrigued the young Jedi and he abandoned any hesitance about entering the conversation.

Palpatine’s smile vanished. “Silence! I will hear no more of this.”

“The truth about what?” Anakin asked, switching his searching stare between them. From this position, he could see the Force inhibitor collar around the Sith’s neck. Of course, the Chancellor would never let his guard down around such a deceptive advisory. Still, he couldn’t fathom why he’d have someone so dangerous in his office, alone, this late at night.

“About why the War ended,” Dooku replied simply, not once taking his eyes from the incensed man before him. “Won’t you tell him the truth, Chancellor Palpatine?”

The elderly Nabooian steepled his hands. “The War ended because you were captured and surrendered to our superior forces, that is all.”

The other scoffed. “Really? Must I do this myself then? I will not wait a moment longer. Our plans have come to fruition, Master.”

Anakin mouthed the last word slowly, but remained deathly silent to watch. With a pang of bitter sorrow, he wished Obi-Wan was here with him, he didn't understand what was happening but she would.

A considering furrow formed between the Chancellor’s eyebrows and he stared unblinking at the prisoner. Dooku, for all his grandstanding and pride, began to crumble under the intensity. His hands began to tremble and his breathing quickened.

The Chancellor’s voice was not his own. “The Count is threatening to undo all of my good work and restart the War.”

Now this Anakin understood. His lightsaber was in his hand with a flick of his wrist. “Not on my watch.”

“Excellent, Anakin.” Palpatine smiled and Dooku’s eyes widened as he clutched his throat, seeming to be unable to speak.

“Now. Kill him.”

 

Boba gazed out one of the narrow windows, trying to be patient as he awaited the outcome of his buir and his Ben’s meeting.

“Patience is a virtue,” he recited, from Ben.

“Patience is a skill,” he recalled, from Jango.

It didn’t help loosen the knot in his stomach the slightest.

“We never knew our parents.”

Boba jerked out of his thoughts to find Mah watching him with something akin to sympathy in her eyes, leaning against the wall near him.

“…I didn’t know that,” he replied after a beat.

Mah nodded. “Of course, most slaves do not remember their parents, so it is not such a surprise. I’m fortunate to have my sister and Feen, she is like my sister too.” Her green eyes softened. “And you, you are family as well, little Boba.”

His cheeks burning and his heart thudding uncomfortably in his chest, the boy scoffed and turned away to the safety of the window. His mouth opened to instinctively make a cruel comment, to create distance between them, but he found he couldn’t. “Whatever.”

Mah laughed under her breath and nudged him. “Don’t worry. Ben won’t hurt your father. She knows how much you care for him.”

He frowned, a line forming between his eyebrows. “It’s not Ben that I’m worried about.”

 

Mah’s expression darkened as she heard the muttered words but she perked up as she heard the sound of familiar footfalls, joined with another. Nu emerged from the work cellar with Feen, where they had been inspecting the construction of the hydroponic garden system. None of the Twi’lek could wrap their minds around the idea of a room full of plants and water, having grown up mostly on Tatooine with little memories of any other planets.

“Fish, creatures that _live_ in water,” Feen breathed, face bright with wonder. “Oh, Nu, how long until they finish? I want to see these fish for myself!”

“The first section should be completed soon,” Nu assured, closing the door to the cellar behind them. “I’m curious as to how they taste.”

Feen’s mouth dropped open in dismay. “Taste?! You would eat them?”

Nu held up her hands. “I only tease.”

“Sisters,” Mah hailed and what she had meant to say was cut off by Boba’s loud yell. He raced for the door without another word.  The Twi’leks hurried to the window to peer out, Feen having to duck under Mah’s arm to see.

“Is Ben okay?” Nu asked, squinting to adjust to the bright glare of the suns.

 “I think so, I see two forms,” Mah said, her shoulders loosening, “That was faster than I expected.”

Feen shushed them, whispering excitedly, “Here they come!”

They scrambled to arrange themselves both casually and defensively. Boba entered first and then the bounty hunter. His helmet was off and he looked much like Boba, only older and much more forbidding.

Mah was about to step forward to speak when once again she was interrupted, this time by Nu.

“Hello, bounty hunter,” she greeted cordially and dipped her head, her lekku swinging forward with the motion.

Mah felt her heart go into overdrive as the Mandalorian stared down at her sister, looking entirely unimpressed by her gracious welcome. He opened his mouth and the Twi’lek saw red.

 

The unlikely pair fell into an uncomfortable quiet as Ben led them through the turns of the canyons and it remained unbroken most of the way. She wondered if she should mention that Tusken Raiders patrolled the Wastes and that his ship would probably be damaged when he returned to it.

Revenge is not the Jedi way, she recalled but said instead, “You forgot to mention that your son eats like a bantha; he cleared out my pantry in two days’ time.”

The bounty hunter grunted dismissively. “As if there was much in there to begin with.”

“Now that I’m unable to go into the city,” Ben spoke as if she hadn’t heard him, “I need provisions to keep him fed and I’m starting to run low on credits.”

The Mandalorian raised an eyebrow. “I could always turn you in and collect the bounty. That would keep Boba fed for quite a while,” Jango pointed out and she kept her peripheral vision on his blaster to make sure he wasn’t inching his hand towards it.

“True, but I’m afraid he’d be very upset with you.” Now or never, she decided. He was going to find out eventually.

Jango cocked his head to the side. Feigning indifference, she was sure. “Oh?”

“Younglings need a maternal figure, even one of your bloodline, Fett.” Her accent slid smoothly through the blazing heat as her feet kept a fixed speed beside him. “I’m not a fool and neither are you; could you not have predicted this?”

“You, Jedi? Ex-Jedi.” The man mocked. “Couldn’t keep your own child so you steal mine?”

The insult was like a bolt to her heart and she resisted the urge to Force push him into a rock wall. “If you recall, you’re the one who left him in my tutelage.”

“Tutelage implies teacher, not parent,” he verged on snarling, stopping in the middle of the path that led up to her home.

Ben continued a few more paces before realizing he wasn’t going to follow. She exhaled and faced him again, refusing to cower away as he closed the distance between them in three long strides. She could see the faded scars of a hundred battles adorning his skin and his eyes were a much darker shade of amber than she had ever recalled seeing in one of her Troopers. The firm glare was all too familiar to frighten her however.

“They are often one in the same in my experience,” Ben countered, peering dispassionately at him through auburn lashes. “Would you deny your child this opportunity, if only for a little while?”

Jango bared his teeth and she tensed for a fight.

“Buir!” A young voiced shouted and the sound of footsteps raced down the path towards them.

The two adults shared a final glare before Jango brushed past her to meet his son. Ben huffed, cleaning off her shoulder where his armor had smudged dust.

“Brute,” she muttered, just soft enough for only the man to hear. The Mandalorian’s back straightened but he kept walking.

“Boba, my son,” he greeted warmly, delving a gloved hand into his child’s hair. He ruffled it and Boba squawked in delight, fighting him off. “I’ve got a gift for you.”

“You do?” Boba asked with a blinding grin. “Thank you, buir; let’s go inside where it’s cooler first. I’m boiling out here.”

Jango allowed himself to be tugged into the domed abode, Boba chattering a mile a minute the entire way, and Ben resigned herself to playing nice with a barbarian. “Oh, Master,” she sighed to the open air. “I doubt even you could handle this with any finesse.”

She felt a phantom tug on her hair, where her Padawan braid used to be and broke into a weary smile, sighing deeply. “Very well, I will try. For you and for Boba.”

Ben lingered in the comforting Force presence of her Master before her eyes shot wide with realization.

“The Twi’leks!”

She rushed in the house, flinging open the door just as Mah took a flying leap at Jango.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I say that I struggled with this chapter? Because I didddd. And also life has been busy even though I'm not at Uni which is extremely ironic. It's rough but Que será, será. Thank you to everyone for your kind words of support, they nourish my sad little Grinch heart.


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